You are a pretty good liar
by Claire.CZ
Summary: A short insight into the time when Sam and Callen first met. Did they get along? How did their partnership begin? I decided to add some chapters. Chapter 4: Nate evaluates the agents. Chapter 5 Epilogue. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

A short insight into the time when the partnership of Sam and Callen was formed.

I don't own any of the recognizable characters, they all belong to Shane Brennan.

_This is my first real attempt to write a fanfiction story. I would like to thank Elizabeth for her advice._

* * *

''So you don't like jazz,'' stated Sam as he fiddled with the radio.

''Not particularly,'' said Callen after a while.

They were on a stake-out somewhere in LA. Their first case, the Tuhon-case in Mexico, was a very tough one. In fact this was the first moment they actually had time to talk to each other.

''And what music do you like?'' asked Sam his new partner casually.

''Nothing specific or so horrible as jazz. I don't listen to music very often.'' Sam snorted, another half-lie. So far Callen hadn't answered any of Sam's questions, not a single one.

Unlike him, Sam was ready to answer Callen's questions truthfully, but Callen seemed to be completely uninterested in his new partner. He only asked Sam one question, ''You were a SEAL, right?''

''I am. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL,'' said Sam seriously.

... ... ... ... ... ...

The stake-out was finished for the day. ''I can take you to work tomorrow,'' suggested Sam carefully.

''No, thanks,'' was Callen's brisk answer.

''But it's not a problem, Callen. It's actually a reasonable and environment-friendly option. If you just tell me where I can pick you up...''

''If you want to be environment-friendly, you can take the bus. I'll drive by myself.''

Callen was extremely happy the stake-out ended because he was annoyed with all Sam's questions. His new partner was very persistent and Callen needed to be on alert while Sam Hanna was around. He couldn't afford to believe him, not after so many unpleasant childhood experiences and betrayals he had suffered thorough his life and career.

Callen didn't expect any good to come from Sam. He was sure his new partner, according to the repeated pattern, would betray him eventually. The closer he gets, the bigger the betrayal and disappointment would be. To prevent this from affecting him much, Callen's modus operandi was simple: Don't tell anything to anyone. Keep the secrets in your head. That's the only safe place.

... ... ... ... ... ...

The next day the new partners were doing paperwork. The Tuhon-case had to officially disappear. Sam watched Callen closely. He could feel and almost touch Callen's mistrust. Sam was good at teamwork. He just wasn't accustomed to handling ticking bombs on a daily basis. And his current partner was a ticking bomb. For SEALs were the team, cooperation and trust everything; it was necessary for survival, so Sam decided for a direct approach.

''Where do you live, Callen?'' He still hadn't figured out how he should call his partner. Callen? G Callen? G C?

''Here and there, I move a lot,'' came a typical nothing-revealing answer.

''And you can't be just a little more specific because...''

''There's no need to send me birthday cards.''

''As if I knew when's your birthday,'' Sam muttered.

Callen immediately turned back to his computer and continued writing a report. Sam couldn't stand this coldness. He decided to give Callen one last chance to say something which would be at least half-true. He knew only a few facts about Callen he could use. Macy just mentioned he transferred from the CIA...

''So you worked for the CIA...''

Silence.

''Any other agency? Maybe FBI, NSA? Don't tell me you are a military brat.''

''Wow, so many three letters and you put them together correctly. I'm impressed.'' Sam bolted from the chair.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''Macy, I can't work with him,'' Sam nearly shouted at his superior.

Lara Macy didn't have to clarify who the 'he' was. ''Calm down, Sam. Why? Give me a reason.''

''You can't be serious! A reason? I can make a list of reasons! Let's see. First, he's terrible to deal with. Second, he doesn't trust me. Third, he's too young to be the lead agent. Fourth, he wants to work alone. Fifth, he's practically homeless. Sixth, he's paranoid from the spy games,'' Sam spilled out at one breath.

In this moment Callen walked past the closed door of Macy's office. Sam was so loud that the closed door was no obstacle and Callen could clearly hear everything. He had been certain that his colleagues criticized him, complained about him to their bosses. He had given up to make a good impression long time ago. What surprised him though was the genuine concern he recognized in Sam's voice. Still Callen didn't want to hear Macy's answer. It really didn't matter what they thought about him. In a year or two he moves to another agency again...

''You are right and yet he's still an asset,'' replied Lara Macy calmly to Sam's outburst. ''He's an exceptional agent. Undercover missions, covert operations... CIA, DEA, FBI. Russia, Eastern Europe, Middle East... Everything else is classified.''

''Yeah, I get it, he's a legend. But it's impossible to get along with him. He gets suspicious even if I only buy him a cup of coffee. I bet he thinks I want to poison him, seriously. Look, I can't believe that I'm saying it but wouldn't it be better for him to work alone?''

''But we don't work alone here in NCIS,'' said Henrietta Lange from somewhere behind Sam.

_''__The little ninja is here again,'''_ thought Sam.

''I understand your concern, Mr Hanna. It goes against your training,'' Hetty continued.

''I know people very well and you will make a good team, believe me. I personally picked both of you and I rarely make mistakes. Now back to our Mr Callen. Think of him as of a project, Mr Hanna.''

_''So this is really helpful,'' _thought Sam sceptically.

Sam joined NCIS only recently, but he had learned that you don't disagree with Henrietta Lange, the gray eminence of NCIS.

''Mr Callen is a person with unique approach to the world,'' she added thoughtfully.

Hetty had to convince her boy – as she called Callen only in her thoughts - that truth and trust exist in the world and he doesn't need to be alone. And Sam, the strong, honest SEAL with a big heart was her chance.

Sam still didn't know why had Hetty paired them up. Macy saw in Callen an asset and thus wanted him to form a professional relationship with him. But Hetty, he sensed, really did care about Callen.

Sam decided to return back to the bullpen. He couldn't change Hetty's decision and now he almost didn't want to either. He was intrigued and decided to put up with Callen a little longer.

''Climb the walls around Mr Callen. Remove them carefully brick by brick,'' said Hetty to him, cryptic as always.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''Are you married,'' Callen pointed to Sam's finger, where were visible marks of the missing ring.

''Yes, I'm. We were married in April. Michelle worked for the CIA, too.''

_''Sam doesn't waste time,''_ Callen thought, ''_he has already told me so many lies._ _He looked like a SEAL, this may be true. But married? No way. However, he came up quickly even with a wedding date, nice touch...''_

Callen couldn't understand why would someone tell personal information, or any information, to a complete stranger, so that he was absolutely sure Sam was lying to him all the time.

He on the other hand was certainly more subtle, technically he wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the truth either. There were half-lies, omissions, empty words, creative ways of twisting the truth - he had been in the spy business for a very long time after all...

But suddenly Callen was tired of the game. Why ask the questions, why bother to answer them when you know that nothing is true. He and Sam just had to work together, be two guys who go from a case to another case.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''You are a pretty good liar, I have to admit it,'' Callen stated simply.

Sam was caught unprepared, he jumped from the chair and repeated Callen's words in shock. ''Me... a good … **liar**.''

''I'm a really good one too, so we don't have to pretend anymore,'' Callen continued looking to the ground.

Then, he looked at Sam and in this moment he saw it. Even the best liar can't fake the hurt in his eyes.

Sam was hurt because he accused him of being a liar. His partner was indeed saying the truth, he wasn't lying to him.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''You are really married?'' Callen asked confused.

''Is it so incomprehensible? I'm a girl's dream, responsible, practical, fit. Michelle's pregnant.'' Sam said relieved. This was the first normal conversation they had.

''Here's the proof,'' he showed a photo from an ultrasound to Callen.

They both worked in silence on the pile of documents when Callen said: ''You can call me G.''

''Ok, G. And what does that stand for?''

''They never told me.''

It was a strange answer but Sam wisely decided not to push harder. He hoped that one day Callen reveals who the 'they' is.

At the and of the day he was rewarded for his patience. ''If you still want to be environment-friendly, there's a coffee stand in Venice, we can meet there. You drive.''

Sam simply nodded. He was very succesful today. Two bricks removed. Callen had a name, yeah sort of, and was willing to carpool with him.


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to add some chapters... Some of the guest reviewers wanted it and because you can't reply to guest reviews and explain that the story is complete, it's easier to write a new chapter :)

I don't own any of the recognizable characters, they all belong to Shane Brennan.

Thanks to Elizabeth for her suggestions and proofreading.

* * *

Sam accepted the cup of coffee that Callen had handed him. The agents didn't have to hurry to work so they lingered at the coffee stand. Sam watched Callen and faintly smiled. Sam's smiling quickly annoyed Callen.

''What?'' he asked in his special interrogation tone. ''Why are you smiling? Do I have mismatched socks or something?''

''Just thinking, G. Gerry? Gordon? Gabe? What's wrong with your name?'' Sam tried.

_'Oh, no, here we are again, the game of endless questions,'_ Callen thought. ''You can always call me Callen. It's also a name and there's nothing wrong with it,'' he quickly countered.

''Come on, you are not BJ,'' Sam replied.

Callen looked at Sam questioningly, anger appeared in his eyes. He hated it when he didn't have all pieces of information he needed and here he didn't have the slightest idea what Sam meant.

''BJ Hunnicutt from MASH,'' Sam clarified and Callen continued starring at Sam.

''He never revealed his name, just kept saying that BJ was his name. Hawkeye never found out,'' Sam explained further. Callen tried to mask that he still didn't know what his partner was talking about.

''You had to watch it. All of America watched it when I was a kid,'' Sam added, clearly not believing that someone didn't follow the most popular series of the 70s and 80s.

Callen, as a skilled agent, quickly recovered and ended the discussion: ''I told you, I don't listen to music very often. The same applies to TV.''

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

He really didn't want to discuss this topic. Television was often more precious to the foster parents than the children they were supposed to care about and, of course, children weren't invited to watch with the adults. Not that Callen minded: being as far from the foster parents as possible was usually the safest option.

And he didn't want to discuss his name either. You can't just say that you don't know your own first name. Who on earth doesn't know their first name? You have to explain. Inevitably then, legal documents_ – in case of the minor G. Callen -_ and 37 foster homes have to be a part of the story. Callen was sure the story would end with him feeling ashamed and with Sam looking at him with pity in his eyes.

So, in Callen's opinion, it was better not to engage in conversation too much, especially not with Sam Hanna, who had some really spot-on questions.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

''Do you have time tomorrow?''

Callen quickly thought about why Sam was asking and which answer would be the best. He carefully surveyed the situation: ''Working overtime?''

''No, dinner. We want to invite you to dinner,'' Sam announced.

Callen was immediately suspicious: ''We?''

''Michelle and me,'' Sam calmly explained.

''You and Michelle... want to invite me to dinner?''

''To our house,'' Sam added another piece of information.

''To your house.''

Sam secretly chuckled at how this simple invitation threw Callen completely off balance. He was sure Callen would come up with excuses and Callen didn't disappoint: ''Thank you, but I'm busy.''

''You and busy?'' Sam quickly retorted.

''I'm a man of many interests,'' Callen smirked.

''I'm sure the Chinese take-out and chess on your computer will wait.''

''I can't come. Why do you want me to come anyway? Nothing happened, right?'' Callen made sure.

''Michelle just wants to see you.''

''Why?'' Callen asked in disbelief.

''I sometimes wonder if there really is brain in the head of yours,'' Sam sighed.

He was getting annoyed and explained in short sentences like for a small child: ''It's simple. You are my partner. She's my wife. She prepares dinner. You'll come.''

Sam saw that Callen still wasn't convinced. ''Plus she was a CIA agent. Maybe she wants to see if you can be trusted,'' he jokingly suggested.

But Sam knew very well that his partner would take it seriously. This mention may convince Callen. The agent didn't trust anyone, except for Hetty and maybe, just a little, for Sam. But turning the issue around? It may just trick Callen into coming.

''Is your wife's dinner better than Chinese take-out?'' was Callen's way of accepting the invitation.

''For your sake I'll pretend I didn't hear it. Be prepared. Tomorrow at 5,'' Sam instructed.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

A few months ago she was a skilled CIA agent, Michelle Chapman. Now she was Michelle Hanna, the loving wife expecting her first child. She had never met Callen, even though they had worked for the same agency for a while, but of course she had heard a lot about him. He was one of the best.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sam picked him up at 5. Callen tried to mask his nervousness with a joke: ''You won't blindfold me? So that I wouldn't tell your address to the enemies.''

''No, but I believe that if you had a real house or at least an apartment you would do that to me,'' Sam replied dryly.

Then the journey continued in silence as Callen thought about suitable topics for discussion with Michelle and almost unconsciously registered the surroundings and possible threats.

''This is clearly not a residential area. Why are you stopping?''

''Because you are buying flowers,'' Sam stated. Callen still sat in the car.

''For the hostess.'' He finally understood and got out of the car.

It had been a while since he bought flowers. _Sure, there were a few funerals, but for a woman? Tracy was the last... _

Callen quickly accomplished the task Sam had given to him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sam introduced Callen and Michelle. They shook hands and Michelle automatically hugged Callen, her maternal instincts had probably already set in. The agent just stood motionless in the middle of the porch.

''Just for your information, Callen, when someone hugs you, you can actually move your arms, too,'' Michelle advised him smiling.

''OK, I'm sorry,'' Callen mumbled his apology.

''The dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Sam, you can show G our house,'' Michelle suggested.

Sam led Callen into the living room and pointed to the sofa. ''The sofa's free.''

''Which is obvious because there's nobody sitting on it,'' Callen replied.

''G, the sofa's free so you can sleep here, sometimes,'' Sam offered.

''Why would I sleep on your sofa?''

''You think I haven't noticed? In the four weeks we work together you've slept in the office at least six times and once even in the boatshed.''

Callen looked up at Sam, but didn't say anything. The man still surprised him; he wasn't just an ordinary soldier following orders. And he caught him. Six times! Callen cursed internally. He had to be more careful. But when was the last time someone cared for him enough to know where he was sleeping?

''You have the same salary as me. I have a house. Why can't you at least rent an apartment?'' Sam asked quietly.

''I'm staying in a motel,'' Callen replied but he saw that his partner wasn't satisfied with the answer, so he added: ''Sometimes I do, really. And I have a bedroll, I can sleep everywhere.''

Another thing Callen didn't want to discuss. He moved so much when he was a kid that even now he couldn't imagine staying in one place for long. Plus he may have been a little paranoid, continuously looking for old enemies and changing locations to confuse them.

With the intention of leaving this topic, Callen pointed to the wall decorated with photos and referred to their earlier conversation: ''Wedding photos. I guess you really are a married man.''

''And you didn't believe it when his wife hugged you?'' Michelle called from the kitchen.

Callen studied intensely the photo of a young boy, who was maybe eight years old...

''This is Aiden, my son. He's at his grandparent's now,'' Sam explained.

Callen didn't realize that he was speaking aloud: ''He looks happy, healthy.''

He was thinking about photos, or the lack of them, from his own childhood. Not only he didn't have photos, he didn't have many happy childhood memories either. Only the Rostoffs took photos of him. He was happy with them; he was part of the family.

It was one of the rare moments when Callen said something which revealed a tiny piece of the man he really was. But Sam didn't notice. He was as lost in his thoughts as Callen.

''Yeah, he's happy now but it was hard. His mother died, I left the SEALs...'' ''Now we are a family again,'' Sam smiled as Michelle entered the living room and Callen was saved from answering.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Michelle had been an agent, a spy, for much longer than her husband. She understood their nature. She knew... You always look over your shoulder, you don't trust everyone, you keep distance, you don't enjoy the spotlight, you blend into the crowd, you wear a mask... Callen was a perfect example. She saw him for the first time, but she understood him completely.

''Sam, be patient with him. You will be an amazing team. I can feel it. Just don't push him. I know you value honesty and trust the most and I know he will trust you and will be honest with you... He just needs some time; he's a good man,'' Michelle told Sam in the evening, after Callen had left.

''Hetty said it too; I'll probably have to believe you. Women and their intuition!'' Sam said and very quietly added, so that Michelle wouldn't hear: ''But in the meantime it will be impossible with him.''

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Callen was lying on his old bedroll in a motel room and was thinking about what Sam told him about Aiden and his family history. Sam didn't bargain – I'll tell you if you tell me – he simply told him. Sam told him because Callen was interested in the photo. He told him more than he had to, just because trust and honesty was Sam's way.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The next morning Callen came to the office early, he already knew that Sam was a morning person.

''I don't know my first name,'' he told Sam instead of a greeting.

''They never told me,'' Sam echoed Callen's earlier comment.

''Yes, they never told me. I was in foster care. All the documents, labels, they just wrote G. Callen on it and I can't remember it so I don't know my own first name.''

Sam was surprised that after the evening talk with Michelle about patience Callen revealed some information so suddenly. At the same time he sensed that the unknown first name really bothered Callen.

''So it's G then until you find out. Still better than Y. '' This was exactly what Callen needed to hear.

Callen didn't show his emotions and Sam was taking a risk, but he said it anyway: ''I'm glad you told me, G.''

''Don't be too happy, still plenty of mysteries left,'' Callen grinned.

* * *

AN: The story is set two years prior to the beginning of the show (Legend). I admit that I used a lot of speculations and creativity in the part about Sam's past and family. But I think that Aiden can't be Michelle's son and Callen's and Agent Snyder's remarks from the Sidorov-case seem to support my theory. And because Sam is such a family man, the only possibility I saw is the death of Aiden's mother...


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you all for the kind reviews. It seems that everyone has their own theory about Sam's past. Considering that we had to wait more than five years for his children's names, I guess, maybe in another five years we get a new piece of information about Sam's past. However I won't continue exploring it in this story because I take this as a more Callen-centric piece (even if I sometimes try to balance it). Now it's time for some action!

Thank you, Elizabeth, for proofreading, suggestions and endless enthusiasm.

I don't own any of the recognizable characters, they all belong to Shane Brennan.

* * *

''Wow, that's some car. Who can afford it?'' wondered Sam as he arrived to work.

''That's Hetty's Jaguar,'' said Callen promptly.

''Can't be. Hetty and old sport cars?''

''Hetty and old sport cars. I saw her in this Jaguar a few years ago in Paris,'' Callen explained and added with a smile: ''she was staying at the Ritz.''

''How do you kn..'' Sam interrupted his own question. Endless questions lead to nowhere, but Callen might provide some more information in silence.

''She drove in Monaco. At the F1 circuit. And I believe she brought this car even to Colombia, to the anti-narcotics op in 2004,'' Callen remembered.

Sam was curious again. ''You were involved in this operation, G?''

''N… I just had to make sure she was safe,'' Callen replied seriously.

In one second a lot of thoughts whirled in Sam's mind. Sam met Hetty for the first time during the job interview, and then only on her occasional visits to the Office of Special Projects.

_OK, there was definitely more between Callen and Hetty than just a few times working on the same operation together as Callen had admitted earlier. She has been an enigma, maybe even bigger than Callen, who was a box of secrets himself. And their relationship? Probably an unsolvable mystery. The truth serum would maybe raise his chances on revelation - by zero point something per cent. Not worth the risk,_ Sam decided.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''Welcome here _again_, Ms Lange,'' said Lara Macy with an almost undetectable accent on the word _again_.  
Los Angels' team was Macy's team. She was the lead agent and Hetty's visits weren't exactly reassuring.

''Hetty. And this is the last time, I'm repeating this, Ms Macy,'' Hetty said innocently.

''Hetty, what brings you here?'' _again_ \- Macy added only for herself and put on her best smile.

''We need a refreshing training of work procedures. I can't put my … ehm team into danger,'' Hetty said and quickly reprimanded herself – _Was I really going to say my boy? How careless of me!_

''Your team... We are well trained: we follow procedures and everyone can read the manuals for themselves,'' Hetty didn't need to say anything, her disagreement with Macy's statement was evident. ''… but, of course, I can do a refreshing lecture for them,'' Macy added.

''You, my dear, are going to listen with them. I'll do it. Why else would I be here?'' Hetty decided.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''And remember, ladies and gentlemen,'' Hetty looked everyone in the eye,  
''that teamwork is everything,'' now she was looking only at Callen.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''There are some reports, Hetty, if you would like to see them,'' Macy suggested back in her office. She hoped it was still her office.

''Ah, two cases solved in the last two weeks. And both times an agent went undercover,'' Hetty noticed.

''That's how we do it,'' Macy reminded her.

''Your agents obviously enjoy undercover work more than writing reports. They are really short,'' Hetty reprimanded again but was at least careful enough to calm Macy down with the words _your agents_.

... ... ... ... ... ...

_Two American soldiers, A.F. and J.L., suspected of stealing military equipment were arrested during a negotiation with an NCIS agent posing as a smuggler who could help them transfer the goods to Mexico. Two civilians with prior criminal records, D.S. and R.W, were also arrested during this operation. The stolen equipment was recovered. _

_... ... ... ... ... ..._

''If you sing again, I'll put you into the trunk and I'll lock it,'' Callen warned Sam who was absent-mindedly humming a jazz melody.

''Just balancing the universe, G.''

''You just have to sit here and wait. It's not that difficult. Or do you need to calm down even before, let's say, tying your shoelaces?'' Callen stated not very gently.

''Exactly, I'll just sit here and you'll go there alone,'' Sam explained.

''That's the point. Smugglers aren't usually surrounded by an army of people because then their knowledge of secret ways through the border wouldn't be so secret anymore,'' Callen argued.

''OK. Tell me at least the stress word,'' Sam gave up.

''Shoelaces,'' Callen grinned.

In a few minutes Callen faced not only two but four angry 'clients'. ''We have to go to Mexico right now. And you will get us there. We don't have time.''

To stress the point four weapons suddenly pointed at Callen's head. Callen knew that he, himself, didn't have much time. ''And you want to shoot me? Brilliant idea since you want to go to Mexico immediately. I'll be dead, you'll be still here, and you'll probably hang yourself on your shoelaces.''

Sam hurried in to assist his partner. In a few minutes, two of the 'clients' were handcuffed and lying on the floor, Sam was fighting with the third one, but during the chaos the fourth impatient client disappeared. Callen began to methodically search the warehouse. At the moment he didn't have any traces where the man could be hiding.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''On your six, G!'' Sam shouted.

Callen turned around and spotted the man who had a gun pointed at him. But before Callen could do anything he found himself falling to the ground.

Callen couldn't understand how Sam managed to kick the third criminal so precisely that he immediately hit the floor, to grab Callen and send him to the ground and, on top of this, to shoot the fourth man in the arm.

Callen shook his head and slowly stood up. Sam had already handcuffed clients number three and four. He still wondered how Sam managed to do everything in so short time.

''One to zero,'' Sam smiled at Callen.

''There are four men, you sure you did your math right?'' Callen asked.

''I was a junior math Olympian, but that's beside the point. I've just saved your life. One to zero, G,'' Sam clarified.

Callen wasn't prepared for any emotional gestures, so he asked: ''We are counting it?''

Sam seemed to be okay with the lack of emotions, his partner was standing unscratched next to him and that was good enough, so he announced in a nearly singing voice: ''We've just began. And when we reach five, I'm requesting a new partner.''

... ... ... ... ... ...

Hetty didn't need to know exact details. She had imagination and skills. She knew that Sam was quick, strong, and protective. He had instincts and a big heart and was always watching his partner's back.

... ... ... ... ... ...

... ... ... ... ... ...

_Sudanese businessman A.W. suspected of illegal activities was injured during a car pursuit with the LAPD. An NCIS agent went undercover as his bodyguard to a meeting with potential Russian sellers of compotents for manufacturing of biochemical weapons. The meeting confirmed that the sellers were in possession of components X24 and 45L stolen from a military transport last month. The agent safely left the meeting. Two days later, two Russian citizens were arrested in a warehouse by a SWAT team during preparations for the exchange._

... ... ... ... ... ...

''Why it's you, who goes undercover?'' asked Callen.

''Which one of us looks more like a bodyguard, G?'' Sam answered with a little smile.

''Not every bodyguard has to look like a big teddy bear,'' Callen protested.

''G, did I mention that it's a bodyguard of a Sudanese businessman? You can play a poor pale Finn, but Sudan is a little bit more southward.''

''Next time it's my turn. Even if it's a Congolese boxer,'' Callen decided.

Even if it may have looked like it, he didn't compete with Sam to go undercover. He had been undercover so many times... But Sam had a family, Michelle was pregnant and Callen didn't want Sam to go undercover and be alone. However, unlike Sam, during the previous operation, Callen wasn't able to express his concern aloud.

''Relax, I'll just chat with them for a while; find out whether they really have the missing components and leave to inform _my employer_, Mr Wek,'' Sam tried to convince Callen.

The meeting didn't go as well as planned. ''I'll speak only to Mr Wek personally,'' a man named Igor demanded.

''I am afraid this is not possible. He is dealing with a situation right now. I am his assistant and bodyguard and I am familiar with his business. I will inform Mr Wek about your offer and conditions,'' Mr. Saaed, the bodyguard, recited. Igor was nearly convinced by his calm and confident behaviour but the other seller, Nikolaj, protested.

''I don't believe you. If I shoot you and you are truly his bodyguard, I assume Mr Wek will be a little annoyed but the components will certainly improve his mood. If you are not his bodyguard, I may just eliminate one of our competitors or our 'dear friends from the right side of the law'. We have more potential buyers and we will reach the deal quickly and then disappear. So either way you are redundant.''

Callen immediately came to the conclusion that Nikolaj was dangerously close to the truth and Sam was in danger. But Callen couldn't just storm in and arrest the guys when they still didn't know where the components were. They needed to tail the Russians to their hiding place and only then catch them.

Callen quickly went through a pile of credit cards he had in the glove box. He chose one of them, put it in his wallet and approached the building.

''I suggest you let me in, _tovary__šč_, or you'll regret it very soon,'' Callen hissed at a bodyguard of the Russians and showed him the gun. The man immediately stepped aside the door.

''Smart decision. _Spasiba_,'' Callen said.

Callen opened the door. Igor and Nikolaj were very surprised by the unexpected guest.

''_Izvinite_ for my slight delay. I'm Oleg Veselov, Mr Wek's consultant in legal matters, specifically of this exchange,'' Callen explained confidently, he even showed them his business card.

Oleg and Nikolaj were shocked that a Sudanese businessman had hired a Russian lawyer. They had to be more careful now.

And the lawyer confirmed: ''No matter what we sell or buy, we don't want to violate _zakon_ more than necessary. You certainly wouldn't be very pleased to spend some quality time in a Russian prison, should Mr. Saaed be hurt in any way.''

And to scare them more, he added a name of an infamous figure from the Russian underworld: ''Maybe you would even meet Alexej Vorodin in prison.''

Oleg handed Sam a.k.a. Mr. Saaed a single list of paper. ''Price, conditions, meeting point,'' Oleg said reluctantly.

''I will be happy to inform Mr Wek,'' Sam formally concluded. All four of them nodded and Callen and Sam safely left the building.

''I can't believe it. I had a whole identity constructed, Eric wrote all the documents and they still didn't believe me. And you just come in, throw in a few Russian words, names and they are on the verge of a breakdown.''

''I'm charming and it's one to one by the way,'' Callen reminded Sam.

''We are counting it? But seriously thanks, G.''

When Sam saw the multiple business and ID cards Callen left on the passenger seat, he chuckled: ''Always prepared, right? But how come you didn't have a suit prepared? Lawyers don't usually wear blue t-shirts and jeans.''

''This is your Challenger, no room for suits. I actually wonder how all these cards fit into the glove box,'' Callen said.

''You can always keep a suit in the trunk.''

''Ah, no, the trunk has to stay free. Remember, you and singing? Trunk,'' Callen warned.

... ... ... ... ... ...

Hetty had experience and instinct. She had known for a very long time, that Mr. Callen was intelligent, calm in nearly unsolvable situations, easily slipping from one character into another one, confident, and always watching his partner's back.

Hetty finished reading. She was pleased, she knew these two men would be safe and would get along. She didn't need to worry anymore, so she could decrease the number of her visits. Yes, she has to leave some room for Macy, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

After the last week's episode when Sam was continuously rejecting Callen's ideas about things they had in common, I needed to cheer myself up with a friendship fanfiction story, so I decided to add a new chapter.

Thanks to Elizabeth for betareading and patience.

I don't own any of the recognizeable characters, they all belong to Shane Brennan.

* * *

Nate Getz was pacing through the halls of the Office of Special Projects.

''I am an operational psychologist. I am,'' he repeated quietly to himself.

He had been working for the OSP for a month and today was the day of psychological evaluations. He had observed. He had read the files. He had already evaluated some of the agents. Today, however, he had to evaluate the elite team, namely Special Agents: G Callen and Sam Hanna.

Nate had already interviewed Macy, who was his and their boss, so it was interesting, but he managed. He knew that the important people higher up were always more interested in the results of the field agents than in the results of the bosses from offices - because ultimately the success of any mission relied on the field agents. And Miss Lange made sure he knew it. She was here again, waiting for the results.

Nate studied the files. He suspected that Sam's files were redacted but it didn't surprise him much, Sam had been a SEAL after all. He also found out that Sam was an exemplary marine and agent, and on top of this understood the necessity of regular psychological evaluations.

He hoped that the files would tell him something about Callen because during the month that Nate had been working in the OSP he wasn't able to decipher much on his own. The files obviously decided not to comply. The only words left for the readers without top security clearance were almost only conjunctions, pronouns and prepositions.

''Never mind, there are still reports from earlier psychological evaluations,'' Nate tried to cheer himself up, except the reports were very short, it almost looked like the psychologists practiced the art of 100-word-drabble.

Nate maybe couldn't find out much useful information from observing Callen's behavior, but he firmly believed that an actual interview, a face-to-face meeting, had to change it. The personal note one of the psychologist added to Callen's file – the one which said: 'super-cagy' – Nate dismissed as utterly unprofessional.

... ... ... ... ... ...

Another stake-out. Just great. Stuck in the car for several hours. Boring. Again. And not alone. Just great.

Nothing was happening. Sam was in control of the steering wheel – and of the radio apparently too – so Callen decided that his presence wasn't much needed and allowed himself to fall asleep. Sam watched with amusement how his partner was drifting off to sleep.

Half an hour later Callen began to move, he was clenching his fists and was shaking his head so vigorously that Sam feared he might hit the window. Sam contemplated whether it was a good idea to touch Callen in this situation, but he needed to have his attention.

Sam gently placed his hand on Callen's shoulder. ''Callen, wake up. G, do you hear me? Wake up,'' Sam urged him.

Callen's eyes shot open and he was already halfway reaching for his gun.

''Hey, G, relax.''

Callen finally registered Sam's words.

''What's going on, G?'' Sam asked sincerely.

Callen reached for the binoculars with night vision. ''Nothing, the guy is still in there.''

''That's exactly what I asked about.''

Callen tried hard not to fall asleep again, but the stakeout the previous night and all the activity of the day had taken its toll. Sam was tuning the radio when he heard Callen say something.

''I didn't hear you G.''

But Callen didn't repeat his words and Sam - to his surprise – found out that Callen was asleep again.

Sam kept thinking_ 'Soldat? If I heard it right... what was this?'_

That it came again. ''Nu, nu, soldat.''

Sam was seriously worried because none of his partner's words made sense to him. A few minutes later he heard ''nisip'' and something like ''plash''.

Sam decided to wake up Callen again and this time not to let him dodge the questions since Sam thought that the only explanation for his weirder-than-usual behavior was a serious head injury.

Sam placed his hand on Callen's shoulder again and asked: ''G, what is plash?''

Confused, Callen looked at him. ''You don't strike me as a language guy.''

''What?'' Sam panicked, he was definitely right about the head injury.

''Are you learning Romanian? Or Czech, Russian... It doesn't happen very often, but with this word, the pronunciation is the same in these languages, only the spelling varies, plajă, pláž, пляж.''

Sam only repeated: ''What?''

''It means beach. Anyway where did you pick it up?''

''You said it, when you were sleeping.''

This time it was Callen's turn: ''What?''

Suddenly Callen became angry: ''And you were listening!''

''We are in the car, G,'' Sam explained needlessly.

''You also repeated soldat, nu nu soldat, and something like nizip. And you will tell me what's going on because otherwise I'm taking you to the nearest hospital.''

''Hospital. To get me a truth serum?''

''To get you checked for a head injury,'' Sam countered.

''I do not have a head injury or any other. We haven't fought with anyone today.''

''It was Romanian,'' Callen stated quietly.

Sam didn't expect such an abrupt change in the conversation but he couldn't help asking: ''You speak Romanian? And Czech? And Russian?''

''Of course,'' Callen replied, as it was the most normal thing.

''What did it mean, you know … the words?''

Callen sighed. ''Soldier, no no soldier, sand and the beach.''

Callen explained the meaning of the words, but he really didn't want to explain the real meaning 'behind' the words. He actually never knew that he talked aloud while he was sleeping. There was usually no one who would tell him...

Callen saw that his partner still wasn't convinced. ''It was just a dream, Sam. I have it often. It's just me on the beach in the sand and then a man comes to me and gives me a tin soldier.''

Sam was thinking for a while. ''Do you know what does it mean?''

''Mixed childhood memories, possible leads, or a nonsense fantasy... I really don't know,'' Callen answered truthfully and almost sadly.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''I love you,'' Sam whispered and finished the call.

Callen checked his watch. ''You know, it's only 1 am and you've already called Michelle five times!''

''Nobody asked you to count it,'' Sam replied grumpily.

The calling continued – equally frequent – even the next day and during the evening stake-out.

''Are you sure, you're ok, Michelle?'' … ''Fine, just take care, love you.''

Callen sighed. ''She's a big girl. I'm sure she can take care of herself, or at least for the next hour before you call her again.''

Sam's voice was dangerously calm: ''Callen, will you just let me make sure my wife is ok? Is it really too much to ask for?''

''You are freaking her out! I'm not a specialist, but even I can tell that it will be at least two month before you welcome the baby in the world,'' Callen impatiently explained.

''You don't know what you are talking about,'' Sam snapped at him.

''Then tell me. You've been impossible to get along with the whole week. Not me.''

Sam pulled his phone from his pocket again. But instead of calling he touched a few symbols and then watched the screen intently. Callen leaned slightly in his seat so he could see Sam's phone.

''You do realize you have been starring at a completely black screen for more than ten minutes?''

''It's not black. I'm watching the camera from our house. It's the street, here,'' Sam showed Callen.

''Watching your own house on your own phone?''

''Yeah, Eric worked his magic: connected something with something,'' Sam explained.

But Callen wasn't exactly interested in the technical aspects. ''You are spying on your own house? And I thought we agreed that it's me being paranoid.''

''I just spotted a car on Monday, it was odd, I had this feeling...''

''Sam, your wife is a highly trained CIA agent. She can handle a lost tourist or a divorced man sleeping in his car. You don't have to call her twenty times a day.''

''Exactly. My wife is a highly trained CIA agent,'' Sam repeated dimly.

''What do you know about Michelle?'' Sam asked suddenly.

''I wasn't spying on your wife in the suspicious car, I swear.'' Callen's attempt at joke failed so he answered seriously: ''I know she is, or was, a CIA agent. You told me. I had never met her when I worked there. I had never heard of her. I can tell you only the common things, how her training was because I completed the same one, I can tell you the type of her gun because I had the same...''

''I'm sorry, G. I was just...'' Sam tried to apologize and Callen jumped in: ''...being an over-protective big teddy bear.''

''There's a reason, G. We met during a joint operation. We worked together basically 24/7 and … we fell in love. Then it was quick, wedding and so... The case was dangerous. We gathered intel on Isaac Sidorov, a Russian weapons dealer. He is dangerous and he is free. Michelle was undercover. Sidorov is, according to all information, in Russia but I don't want to take any risks. Especially now.''

''I can ask some of my contacts in Russia, to see what Sidorov is doing, planning...'' Callen offered.

''Thanks, G.''

... ... ... ... ... ...

Nate relaxed. So far, so good. Sam's evaluation had been going smoothly.

''Why are you doing this job?''

''I'm serving my country. How can you ask like that? Protecting America, semper fi...'' Sam shook his head in disbelief why he had to explain the most natural thing in the world.

''You were a SEAL. Team is obviously important to you...'' Nate tried to calm Sam down.

''So how's your partnership with Callen?''

''Good. We are getting to know each other... slowly.''

''What do you think of him?''

''He's an incredibly talented undercover agent which makes everything else … umm complicated.''

''Your answers are shorter and shorter,'' Nate encouraged him.

''He's my partner. I trust him,'' Sam added simply.

''What do you think he thinks about you?''

''That I'm an over-protective big teddy bear...'' Then Sam reminded himself that Nate was just doing his job, so he added: ''Nobody can see into his head. But so far he's getting along with me, so that's a good sign... considering our beginning.''

''What does he fear the most, how does he react under pressure?'' another prying question from the standard form.

''Like there wasn't any pressure at all.''

''The question was a little longer,'' Nate again stepped in.

''I know you are doing your job, but I will not discuss it with you. SEALs care about their fellow men and help when something happens, but we most certainly don't discuss it with strangers.''

Sam didn't want to be mean, but the psychologist should have trod more carefully.

In fact, Nate didn't expect an answer. He was only looking for a sign whether Sam knew something or not.

... ... ... ... ... ...

Nate shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Talking to Callen was … umm complicated.

''I don't know if you have had a partner before... What do you think about working in a team?''

''When you work in a team and duck behind the door of a car, it's crowded.''

Nate sighed.

''Why are you doing your job?''

''I've been doing my job since I can remember. I'm an undercover agent. I'm living this life so others can have a normal, less dangerous, maybe even boring, family life.''

''What do you think about Sam?''

''I'm an undercover agent also because I don't like philosophizing.''

After a while Callen decided to have mercy on Nate and said: ''I trust him.''

_''Which may be my biggest mistake. Tracy is the proof,' _Callen immediately added for himself. Even he had enough common sense not to mention this aloud. No matter how great an agent he was, sometimes the bosses really read the evaluation papers and decided according to them. No need to let them know how much the Tracy fiasco/marriage affected him.

_'Let's skip the question about the personal traits of your partner you value the most,'_ Nate decided in his mind.

''What do you think he thinks about you?'' Nate tried.

''That I'm practically homeless, too young to be the lead agent, paranoid, terrible to deal with,'' Callen replied and unlike Sam didn't offer a serious version of the answer. ''Overall he may think I'm crazy,'' Callen summed up.

Nate sighed again. He toyed with the idea that this observation was very true.

Suddenly Callen grinned. ''You think it too. But so far you've let me free and haven't locked me up.''

Nate thought: _'I hate it when he does it, I'm supposed to get inside people's heads, not the other way around.'_ Oh, how he understood the unprofessional note saying super-cagey...

''What's your partner's biggest fear? How does he react under pressure?'' Nate dreaded the answer. _Will it be sarcastic, cynical or only ironic?_

''Can you imagine the big guy worried? He's all muscles, no place for worries. He quotes films under pressure.'' Callen smirked.

''Everything is fine, Nate. See you next time.''

... ... ... ... ... ...

''What can you tell us, Mr. Getz,'' Hetty asked.

''I should have been a surgeon.''

''And apart from your career choices?'' Hetty asked dryly.

''They are complete opposites, but their commitment to the job brings them closer. They are hard on themselves, they expect only the perfect performance which involves having their partner's back, even if they wouldn't want to - but they want to... and you had known all of this before I told you.''

''But I'm not an operational psychologist, it would be irresponsible for me to write the evaluation papers by myself,'' Hetty stated.


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the last part of the story, it's really short, so it's rather an epilogue than a regular chapter.

Thank you, Elizabeth, for betareading.

Thank you all for reading, favouriting, following and above all reviewing. (Now I really now what the writers' ecstatic sentences mean - like reviews are yummy or reviews make the world go round - they really are and they really do).

This part is so short although from another reason. The shooting and Callen's recovery deserve much more attention, I'd say a whole new story, so I can't use all my ideas here :-) (I've actually written fifteen pages about the shooting, recovery, Stanhope's plan, investigation, Dom's first days with the team, different points of view... so maybe it's not our last "virtual meeting"...)

* * *

**Partnership sealed by blood**

He heard gunfire. He smelled blood. He felt how he was falling to the ground. He heard someone screaming '_don't do this to me, G_'. He felt the cold.

He opened his eyes and slightly touched the scare in the center of his chest. He was still recovering from the drive-by shooting nearly three months ago. He still remembered...

... ... ... ... ... ...

He remembered the soft brown eyes and desperate pleas when Sam cradled his almost lifeless body on the pavement in Venice. ''_Don't do this to me, G_!'' This and Sam pressing one of the wounds were the only things that prevented him from giving up.

... ... ... ... ... ...

He didn't remember much what had happened then. He woke up smelling disinfection and hearing multiple regularly beeping noises. The first thing he saw were Sam's eyes again. He wanted to make a joke that he wasn't in heaven or hell yet, but he found out that he couldn't speak. A tube was in his mouth and throat. Besides, it was too exhausting to try to speak. Sam squeezed his hand; relief in his eyes was almost tangible.

... ... ... ... ... ...

He was still under the influence of strong painkillers and so every time he woke up he was confused but Sam was always there. He knew it even before he opened his eyes.

Teamwork and partner's intuition, maybe, just like Hetty said once.

... ... ... ... ... ...

''Thank you, you saved my life,'' Callen said sincerely.

Somehow this was different. Their lives were in danger all the time, but this was all different. This wasn't about minimizing a potential threat. This was about winning over death in the last moment.

''G, that's what partners do. I'm so glad, you'll be fine.''

... ... ... ... ... ...

Sam knew Callen was in pain. Sam said a joke or tried to engage Callen in their usual banter just when he needed it the most. He squeezed G's hand always in the right time when Callen needed energy to fight back the pain.

Partner's intuition and teamwork, maybe.

... ... ... ... ... ...

Sam was thinking aloud in Callen's hospital room: ''This is worth ten usual saves. I can't even imagine...''

Callen wanted to pull Sam out of these unhappy thoughts: ''Will you request a new partner? You said after five saves...''

''Nah, when I've managed two years with you? Maybe we get a medal when we make it to five.'' Sam joined Callen's lighter tone.

''Besides who would want to work with you, G?''

''I know. Too young, practically homeless, paranoid, impossible to deal with,'' already falling asleep Callen quoted Sam's initial complaints.

... ... ... ... ... ...

He heard gunfire. He smelled blood. He felt how he was falling to the ground. He heard Sam shouting '_don't do this to me, G_.'

Callen decided that this wasn't a nightmare.

Sam had his back.

He had his back too.


End file.
